Chapter 2: Failed Attempt To Blend In
Panting heavily, Kaelor let go of his mother’s corpse and slumped beside it, a couple of meters deep into the bush. His hands trembled. His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts.
He had searched desperately for something, anything, to bury her with. But there were no tools, no shovels, no stones sharp enough to cut through roots. Just wet earth and pain.
So he dropped to his knees and began to dig with his bare hands.
Each scoop of soil came with a whisper of grief. Rain had softened the ground, but even that mercy came at a cost, his fingers quickly turned raw, his nails split and bled, the mud caked deep into the skin. Yet he kept digging. The ache in his arms and shoulders only fueled him. The sting in his throat that almost made him cry drove him deeper. It was pain, pure and undiluted, that pumped through his veins, pushing him forward.
Hours passed.
Finally, when he could dig no further, he rolled her body into the shallow pit, arranged her limbs gently, and began to cover her. The grave wasn’t deep. Not enough for peace, perhaps, but enough to keep scavenging beasts at bay.
He sat back on the grass, his chest heaving, staring at the mound of damp earth that marked her resting place.
"At least... they won’t eat you," he whispered.
The sun was now descending, staining the sky with hues of orange and grey. "I’ve got a few hours before dark," Kaelor muttered, his voice low and rough as he stared at the sky with dead eyes and mud-streaked cheeks.
This transmigration hadn’t been mystical. There were no glowing portals, no gods or spirits welcoming him. The memories of this world, of Kaelor Dravion, had been quietly sealed into the folds of his mind. Seamless.
In a way, it already felt like he’d lived here all his life.